There goes that voice again. That voice which wakes me up every morning, that voice which follows me wherever I go, that voice which haunts me even in my sleep. I recognize that voice. It means that hell’s about to strike. In five… four… three… two… CLASP!
My bedroom door opens with a loud whoosh and there she stands, all five-foot-and-one-inch tall with her hands balling into fists on her hips, her hips that have seen better days. She glares at me with those piercing eyes that seem to bear holes on my skin. Her teeth, clenched tight; her jaw, hard set; and her knuckles, white.
Oh, great. What did I return to the wrong place again? A glass? The bottle of water? My towel? Jeez! Is it because she caught me poking my baby cousin hard on the stomach again thus causing him to wake up with a start?
Slowly, she unclasps her fists.
Now, I’m going to get it.
“Dishes for one week.” My mother simply says through gritted teeth, dropping the thing that was concealed in her right on my bed, before turning around and leaving my room.
What’s wrong with her? I think as I turn to look at what she dropped on my yellow-clad bed.
Ah, heck. She found her favorite jar which I stashed in a cabinet at the kitchen.
And which I broke last week.
My bedroom door opens with a loud whoosh and there she stands, all five-foot-and-one-inch tall with her hands balling into fists on her hips, her hips that have seen better days. She glares at me with those piercing eyes that seem to bear holes on my skin. Her teeth, clenched tight; her jaw, hard set; and her knuckles, white.
Oh, great. What did I return to the wrong place again? A glass? The bottle of water? My towel? Jeez! Is it because she caught me poking my baby cousin hard on the stomach again thus causing him to wake up with a start?
Slowly, she unclasps her fists.
Now, I’m going to get it.
“Dishes for one week.” My mother simply says through gritted teeth, dropping the thing that was concealed in her right on my bed, before turning around and leaving my room.
What’s wrong with her? I think as I turn to look at what she dropped on my yellow-clad bed.
Ah, heck. She found her favorite jar which I stashed in a cabinet at the kitchen.
And which I broke last week.
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